Na Bantu - World of a Thousand Peoples

[Wensleydale]

Bú Látan Der

The Bú Látan Der movement is a rapidly growing monotheistic surface religion which deifies Latan Der (or 'Latander', 'Lathander'), a Talented individual whose ability was a healing power so strong he even cured victims of the Magestorm.

 Origins

At the end of the Magestorm, as the storm receded, an adventurous (or possibly just opportunistic) human man named Karran of Hamand was exploring recently-uncovered agricultural communities to look for signs of life (or possibly loot). He didn't find much - but what he did find, according to the legend (which is questioned by some sceptics) was a child, who he took back with him to the city. The child's name was unknown - he was only a baby - so Karran named him Tommas, a common local name, and took him back to his family. Karran's family was quite large, but another child was not unwelcome, since they lived reasonably comfortably on Karran's income as a smith, a prestigious job. Karran's wife, Shima, raised the baby as one of her own. She always knew he was different, however - when he was but three, he healed a cut on his brother's knee with a touch. They decided he was destined for the priesthood, and at the age of thirteen, in AM 12, he was apprenticed to the local Elvic temple, where he acquited himself well in all ways. It was in pastoral care, however, that he was considered best.

Over time, he became dissatisfied with perceived corruption in the Temple, and the last straw was had when a madman, sick from the Magestorm, visited the Temple looking for salvation. This man, now Sainted, was called Beirn, but despite his supplications the Temple turned him away. Tommas threw down his priestly headdress in disgust and chased after Beirn, dramatically healing him in front of a large crowd in the Kingsquare. It was here that he proclaimed a Reformation, and offered to heal any who wished to come to him. Because of this, he began to be referred to as Latan Der, or 'healer' in the High Elvic tongue, which is commonly used in Hamand to name prophets (to give them some kind of religious mysticism). Látan Der began to reject traditional Elfic and Kamasc religion, and advocate simplistic living and healing of the poor's mental, physical and economic ills. This was not to last, of course - in AM 21, when he was but twenty-two, the combined Kamasc and Elfic priesthoods presented a petition to the king to permit their burning him as a heretic. He attempted to flee the city, but was caught at the gates, dragged to the Kingssquare, and burned, to great protest from his followers. These followers proceeded to use his execution as a kind of martyrdom, and proclaimed him as a new deity. Despite several more burnings and rejection in almost every other city apart from th'Twelve, the religion seems here to stay.

 Doctrine

The religion, 'Bú Látan Der', which means roughly 'path of the healer', has no priests - there are 'healers', who attempt to cure people and explain matters to the uninitiated, and 'proclaimers', who attempt to proselytise, but not anything that could really be considered a full-time priest. It teaches the healing of ills - physical, mental, financial and otherwise - in others, in the hope that you will likewise be healed and eventually achieve perfection, being healed of the ultimate ill - death (a rather terminal and debilitating illness). This idea of reincarnation was never mentioned by Latan Der himself, and is an idea added later by more philosophical minds. Groups of Bú Di Látan Der, or Lathanderites, tend to meet in their homes and (theoretically at least) attempt to help each other, either through listening to one anothers' problems or direct aid, giving loans to one another and so on. These groups sometimes have an official leader, generally a healer or a 'proclaimer', but mostly this position is unofficial.

[Wensleydale]

Elvic Peoples

The difference between 'elf' and 'elvic' is an often-confusing one for newcomers to the terminology, and has its roots in the roots of the elves themselves. The original elvic people - the self-designated 'Emyet' who spoke 'High Elven' - were humans, racially categorised by blonde hair, green eyes and slightly slanted eyes. A noble class arose amongst this people - those amongst them who were willing to breed with fey creatures. This élite, superior people were referred to as Elevdir within their own society, which was loaned into the Kamasc languages (among others) as 'elf'. However, 'elf' remained a word for their entire society, which has now led to confusion. To avoid this confusion, modern usage tends to designate the following meanings:

Elvic (or 'Emyic'): Adjective used to describe the 'elven' human peoples.

Emman (plural 'Emmen'): Used to describe elvic humans.

Elfish (or 'Elfin' or 'Elven'): Adjective used to describe actual, manifest elves with elfish traits such as elongated life and arcane charm.

Elf: Used to describe a full, manifest elf.

Petty-Elf: Used to describe human-appearing peoples with elfin blood, whose families have manifested elves.

[Wensleydale]

The Emesc

The Emesc are Elvo-Kemesc mixed people, in the general sense, and in the more specific sense to which 'Emesc' originally purtained, the specific mixed people who reside in Bel Doon.

 Etymology

Emesc comes from the Elvic word 'Eme', from the root 'Em' (the ethnic designation of the original elves), the same root from which 'Emwa' ('elvic place') and 'Emyet' (the High Elven people) are derived. The 'Eme' were the people (and also the language) of the city of Emwa, and 'Emesc' was the Kamascicised version of their self-designation. Thus, Emesc is the Kamasc word for 'People from Emwa', its original meaning. In modern times, its meaning has been stretched to include, in the wider sense, all elvo-kamasc peoples.

 Origins

In Bel Doon in particular, the Emesc are the result of a conquering people (the now-extinct Eme) interbreeding with a local population over hundreds of years. Whilst these were mostly the regular 'Emmen', or elvic humans, there were also a number of couplings between true elves and Kamasc humans, particularly after the revolution replaced the noble elfic caste with a republic. Outside of Bel Doon, Emesc are found in th'Twelve, where they are the products of unions between immigrants and locals (or immigrants and immigrants), and in other cities under similar circumstances. The people of Ému, who mostly come from similar roots, are not classed as Emesc for political reasons (mainly their hatred of elves and refusal to be connected with them).

 Language

Whilst Emescs in other cities may speak any language, and tend not to speak elvic languages (since their parents will likewise not speak them), in Bel Doon they tend to speak the native Emesc language, and possibly also Kemé if one of their ancestors was of Kemé stock. Emesc is a peculiar mixed language, which is dubiously Kamasc in basis but possesses over 1/2 elvic vocabulary and many elvic syntactical, phonological and grammatical features. It is spoken as if one were bilingual, with higher registers using more elvic features. For example, when speaking to a friend, you would probably say 'Iy spicam Émescan', recognisably Kamasc in both vocabulary and word order. However, when speaking respectfully, the word order switches to Elvic: 'Iy Émescan spicam'. Likewise, prepositions, originally Elvic case endings, switch position depending on formality, replacing the usual case endings: 'Iy ós yú det belat', 'Iy det bel yú ós'. This is believed to derive from Kamasc-Elvic bilingualism and the much higher prestige of elvic languages in the community of Bel Doon. Speakers call their language 'Emesc' or 'Spíc es Bels Doons', 'language of Bel Doon'.

 Ethnic Features

Emescs generally appear with paler skin, although some are swarthier like their Kamasc ancestors. They rarely display the tilted eyes of true Elvic peoples, neither do they regularly manifest true elves, although this does sometimes happen. Their hair and eye colours run the gamut, particularly in Bel Doon where even more ethnic mixing has occurred elsewhere. They tend to be considered more attractive than other peoples due to particular stereotyping which has persisted in popular society for several hundred years.

[Wensleydale]

The Silverrail

Many of the roads of Na Bantu are built over what appear to be long, rusty metal tracks, mostly covered by soil - believed by some scholars to be the ancient tracks of a long dead being. These tracks are empty, and only the oldest legends ever mention anything running along them. However, between the ruins of the ancient city of Emé and the city of Bansk in the far north lies a track that shines and does not rust, and along which runs a long silver snake in a never-ending circle, stopping at apparently meaningless points. Here doors along the snake's side open to reveal lines and lines of plush seats, shining magical lights and signs in a long-dead language. Attempts to study (and on one memorable occasion, derail) the Silver Snake have failed miserably, and it has continued on the same course, taking exactly the same amount of time, each day - indeed, the Great Clock in Bansk is set by the train, and the Bansk hour, now the accepted standard, is determined by the time taken for the train to complete a single cycle.

[Wensleydale]

The Speakers

The 'Speakers', known variously in Twelver as 'drodden' (from 'derót', Elvic for 'device') or 'golemer' (from 'golem'), in Emesc as 'therets' (also from 'derót') and in most other languages as some variation on 'rEbbot',  the Shanbi word for 'thing of the gods', are a wide-ranging group of humanoid automatons. The generally recognised image of a Speaker is a glass body modelled on the prototypical elvic human, beneath which flow various different fluids of different colours in a vague mirroring of human muscles. Most Speakers are individually designed, although some were mass-produced. Who built them is a mystery to them as well as the rest of the population - or at least, is a mystery to those sentient enough to think about such things, as the level of intelligence varies. The knowledge is locked away in passworded memory - inaccessible even before much of it was wiped by the Magestorm. Very few Speakers reside in the cities, where they are feared and sometimes attacked, although this rarely does more than superficial damage. Those that do hide their identity and wear full-body garments.

[LordVreeg]

[blockquote=Wens]Magic is effectively the manipulation of the world around via various different supernatural techniques. The world, to a magician, is no more than an immense tangled ball of string. The skill of sorcery involves knowing which string to pull, and being able to see the string in the first place. Most people who claim to be sorcerers are really just masters of sleight-of-hand, assisted perhaps by the occasional Artefact. True sorcerers tend to live in secrecy, devoting their time to their art. The only exception to this is Bimeq, City of Wizards (supposedly, anyhow) where the largest magical school (in fact, the only magical school) in the surface world can be found. In the Underdark, magic is unpredictable and does not necessarily work - different rules govern the world down there. [/blockquote]

First off, I was wondering about the moons and the tides and how that affected lycanthopy...and then you came up with this, and I begin to wonder how much the celestial bodies have to do with this....is there a magic 'generator' on the moon???

Also, looking for population % that can adffect this 'weave', in the major races.

[Wensleydale]

[blockquote=Wens]Magic is effectively the manipulation of the world around via various different supernatural techniques. The world, to a magician, is no more than an immense tangled ball of string. The skill of sorcery involves knowing which string to pull, and being able to see the string in the first place. Most people who claim to be sorcerers are really just masters of sleight-of-hand, assisted perhaps by the occasional Artefact. True sorcerers tend to live in secrecy, devoting their time to their art. The only exception to this is Bimeq, City of Wizards (supposedly, anyhow) where the largest magical school (in fact, the only magical school) in the surface world can be found. In the Underdark, magic is unpredictable and does not necessarily work - different rules govern the world down there. [/blockquote]

First off, I was wondering about the moons and the tides and how that affected lycanthopy...and then you came up with this, and I begin to wonder how much the celestial bodies have to do with this....is there a magic 'generator' on the moon???

Also, looking for population % that can adffect this 'weave', in the major races.

To do with magic in general? Weeell, I hadn't really thought about it, but it DOES make sense that the moon would affect magic in general if it affects lycanthropy, which is an inherently magical disease. And frankly, the moon being/containing a magical generator certainly fits with the feel I'm trying to achieve here.

So that's a tentative 'yes'. The Underdark has different rules governing magic because it is inherently magical - it's like building a magnetised maze and then expecting a compass to point true north.

As for the percentage... it's there for some of them, I'm sure. Yes... elves are 1/500 (i.e. 0.002%), regular humans of all kinds are 1/1000 (0.001%) and tieflings are 1/300 (roughly 0.003%). Other races I'll get to.

[LordVreeg]

[blockquote=Wens]As for the percentage... it's there for some of them, I'm sure. Yes... elves are 1/500 (i.e. 0.002%), regular humans of all kinds are 1/1000 (0.001%) and tieflings are 1/300 (roughly 0.003%). Other races I'll get to. [/blockquote]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How about the races of the underdark?  

[Wensleydale]

[blockquote=Wens]As for the percentage... it's there for some of them, I'm sure. Yes... elves are 1/500 (i.e. 0.002%), regular humans of all kinds are 1/1000 (0.001%) and tieflings are 1/300 (roughly 0.003%). Other races I'll get to. [/blockquote]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How about the races of the underdark?  

Ooh, good question. Drow are significantly higher than surface elves, because their decay has been a lot slower - about 1/300. Duergar are more likely to be identical to surface dwarves, so about 1/5000. Mindflayers are not really of a magical disposition - they're far more psionic-y, although how psionics fits into the world I haven't yet decided. Orcs, surface and underdark, are also about 1/5000, as are most of your non-magical races (carrion crawlers, gnolls, goblinoids etc).

[LordVreeg]

SO how in the MightyMoon's Magical name were the drow pushed downstairs?  they must have a serious downside, other than being afraid of open spaces...

[blockquote=Wens]So that's a tentative 'yes'. The Underdark has different rules governing magic because it is inherently magical - it's like building a magnetised maze and then expecting a compass to point true north.[/blockquote]  Ok, so could there actually be a type of metal/mineral that resonates to the type of energy the moon puts out, sort of like iron and the pole?

[Wensleydale]

SO how in the MightyMoon's Magical name were the drow pushed downstairs?  they must have a serious downside, other than being afraid of open spaces...

Ok, so could there actually be a type of metal/mineral that resonates to the type of energy the moon puts out, sort of like iron and the pole?[/quote]

Quite possibly. Whatever magical devices are made out of, probably. You have to understand, though, that in the mechanical world that is Na Bantu, a magician is roughly equivalent to someone who can see the Matrix for what it is, and modifying flying streams of data so that (for example) a device monitoring the air malfunctions and causes the air to burst into flame (momentarily). Sorcerers don't know exactly what they're doing, or what the truth behind it is, but they can do it anyway.

[Ghostman]

1/1000 (0.001%)

I have to nitpick: 1/1000 is actually 0.1% (or, 1/10 of a 1%).

[Wensleydale]

1/1000 (0.001%)

I have to nitpick: 1/1000 is actually 0.1% (or, 1/10 of a 1%).

Yeah... I started putting them in decimals and then for no greatly obvious reason put a percentage on the end.

[Wensleydale]

Kimeq

Bimeq is a sizable city on the sides and base of the 'Magemount', which itself is one of the outlying mountains of the Ksemxisash jungle. Originally primarily agricultural, it became famous as the 'City of Wizards' after the founding of the Mages' College there, although the College has now been reduced to a tiny fraction of its former membership and power by the Magestorm.

History

[spoiler=Original Founding]The 'Magemount', or Tuxash as it is commonly known, has been a lizardfolk settlement for around a thousand years (if not necessarily continuously). These lizardfolk - along with native humans who may have been here before them or may have later influenced them - share a similar language and culture, and Bimeq was the residence of lizardfolk, human, and combined tribes throughout the ages. By 600 PM (pre-magestorm) it had developed, flourished and declined as a sacred site, and the religious communities and shrines towards the tip of the mountain had been abandoned. The town of Bimeq had a population of about 10,000, and served mainly as a provider of rest, supplies, guides and protection for travellers through the Ksemxisash, as well as an agricultural community which farmed on great terraces cut into the mountainside.

It was from here that one of the greatest sorcerers of the pre-Magestorm age - at least reputedly - originated. Tikata Xsim, a human, was originally trained in the local shamanic tradition, but in 540 PM (for various reasons) travelled East on a returning caravan and crossed the Elfic and Kamasc world, visiting the various persecuted magical communities there. In the Elflands, non-elven users of magic were persecuted by the state, whilst in Kamasc, mob law had the same effective result. Tikata became a jack-of-all-trades, magician of all kinds, anatomist and chemist, along with various other trades which have traditionally been associated with sorcery. Amongst the magical community he became hailed as a kind of prophet, and acolytes flocked to join him - with whom he eventually returned home. With them, he founded an initially-reclusive community towards the tip of the mountain, repairing the unoccupied religious buildings - and this was the beginnings of the school.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=Growth of the School]News of Tikata returning home and intent to settle in a place famously tolerant of mages spread rapidly, as did that of his taking with him about fifty acolytes - the number, of course, swelled from mouth to mouth. Soon, whole families - a magical parent, his (or sometimes her) spouse and their children, the latter two both likely victims of stigma had they stayed behind - were travelling West to join him. Many of the native population saw this as an opportunity for more commerce and production, and many non-magical newcomers were taken on as agricultural labourers or other manual labourers. By 475PM, the presumed year of Tikata's death, all of the old religious community sites atop the mountain were full, and new buildings were springing up both above and below the 'sacred line' - the population of the city was about 40,000, having doubled in about 65 years, and the college was about 700 sorcerers strong - most of them considered 'acolytes'.

Tikata appointed the strongest mage in the college, an elfic human named Tésa Sémwa, as his successor. This was perhaps not the wisest choice - Sémwa had been embittered by his childhood in Éwe, an elf-ruled city where others ruled by right of magic and ethnicity, and had an arcanocentric worldview where wizards - to be fair, of all species and ethnicities - were placed first. He was also somewhat egomaniacal.

Sémwa's first act as head was to initiate the construction of the Ninefold Tower - effectively, he had the top of the mountain converted into a stepped cone of nine plateaux, the topmost, wide plateau being the tip of the mountain and the bottommost separated from the lower city by a twenty-foot sheer cliff. The only breaks in his 'perfect' design were other, smaller, cylindrical or rectangular towers, containing the original shrines or incorporating original buildings into their design, and the Barbican - an old keep that had been rebuilt as a main hall for the College. The Barbican became the only entrance to the college, via the addition of a door opening on to the first Tier and vast flights of stairs. His original intent was to achieve this by manpower, but after two years of architectural slip-ups, he apparently considered it important enough to pull himself away from his work and, using the combined power of all the mages he could bring under his direct command, reforged the mountain the way he desired it. This work took about a year, and by the end, he had what he believed to be the stone incarnation of wizardry. He and other major wizards constructed their own towers and workshops, his being the top-tier 'Archmage's tower' (although that was not its name at the time), the highest point of the building. Some wizards built on the tiers, some burrowed into the mountain, beginning the system of tunnels that now riddles the rock - later on, the tiers themselves would have walls added to them, some of which were later knocked down, and roofs, and other similar architectural features - but for now they were relatively simple.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=The Convention]Sémwa's minor flight of architectural egomania was by far from his worst act. It pales in comparison to the establishment of the Convention - effectively magical government. It came in the form of the First Act, intended to establish rules for magicians at the College, but instead, it established the position of Archmage (automatically the leader of the College, although in later years the positions were split) and the government of the Convention, which was effectively a council of wizards which ruled by majority vote. Sémwa informed the elders and chief of his decision, and when they refused to step down, he disintegrated the chief and had the elders put in chains. This was possibly the worst act of violence perpetrated by the Convention - but their other acts, still unknown to the general public, can be considered somewhat worse.

The Convention practised government not by right of magic, as in Sémwa's homeland, but by magic. The difference may be hard to see, but it is distinct - in the Elflands, government was achieved by regular, non-magical means by order of magic-users who stayed in their position because of their abilities. Here, however, orders of the Convention were achieved by magic. Among these orders were a vast increase in population, which the Convention desired due to economic and other threats from other city states - achieved via mass magical 'pheromone release' (although this is only an approximation, the actual process is much more complicated and doesn't really involve pheromones) and fertility spells. By the end of the Convention's 71-year reign (473-402 PM), Bimeq's population was roughly 230,000, close to its current number. Its other orders included forced conscription during the Elfic wars (although the army was never put into actual use) and, reputedly, the creation of a hypnotised guard force (although this may be no more than legend).

The Convention's power was already beginning to crumble by 420, when Sémwa died. He suffered badly from memory loss towards the end of his life, and this, his fading magical powers, and a series of unpopular decisions had weakened sorcerous support for the government. He was succeeded by a series of weak archmages - two of which were assassinated, threatening to plunge the college into internal warfare - and upon the death of the fourth successor, Dirsson, the Convention effectively collapsed - many members had stopped attending sessions, and those that did were beginning to think actual governance far less important than magical study. The First Act was amended by the Second Act to split the positions of Head and Archmage, with the Archmage serving as the theoretical 'head of state' for Bimeq and the Head controlling the College. The Second Act also passed direct governance over to the non-magical population of Bimeq - totally willingly, in fact - but made the College self-governing and exempt from any laws passed by the non-wizards. The citizenry established a new parliament, the Bimeqqarattash, and so ended the rule of the Convention. [/spoiler]

[spoiler=Bimeqqarattash]The Bimeqqarattash have ruled the city continuously since the Second Act's passage by the wizards, although individual wizards have sometimes manipulated the parliament to pass laws that favour their objectives, the wizards themselves have never again seized power. The experiment in magical governance failed mainly due to wizardly disinterest and disagreement, although the Archmage remained head of the city-state. The population slowly increased, although the city went from being one of the largest cities to being comparatively small in the face of population growth in places like Th'Twelve.

The College likewise grew steadily - in fact quite rapidly - and underwent many architectural changes. The tiers were first walled with arches, then roofed over with flat rooves, and then given sloped rooves in some sections (which made the entire thing look like a broken cone). The top plateau was used as a base for the Great Hall, from the top of which grew other buildings, offices, workshops, and towers (although none as tall as the Archmage's tower, of course). Inside the mountain, tunnel systems extended, overlapped, joined and extended again, resulting in a disordered warren of cellars, living quarters, storage rooms, workshops, and other places. The wizard Shmán created a menagerie of beasts both natural and unnatural here, used by many of the students. Likewise, a vast collection of artefacts mechanical and magical was built up and stored in different places in the building - some collections being owned privately by particularly powerful wizards. Of course, it was not just wizards that resided here - many wizards had families, and of course, any place this large needed servants. The population of the college itself was at its height something like 3000 people, including servants (who did not necessarily live there), sorcerers and their families. It was a centre of learning both magical and otherwise, and people came from afar to visit. [/spoiler]

[spoiler=Magestorm and Aftermath]The Magestorm did not really affect the outer city. However, the College was not quite so lucky. It rose high above the surrounding land, with the Archmage's tower rising high above all the rest like some kind of magical lightning rod, and indeed, it contained so much magic that to the Magestorm, it was like an immense, unmissable target.

Black, stinking clouds gathered above the mountain, and for four days, lightning of different colours - sometimes of multiple colours - rippled, flashed, and spat at the University. By the second day, non-sorcerers (and some lucky sorcerers) were fleeing screaming out of the gates at regular intervals. The sorcerers themselves - particularly the more powerful ones - were confronted by a foe they could not defeat. The magestorm attacked them, fed off their magic, and overcame their willpower. Some were killed by it, some left horribly mutilated, some driven totally mad. The luckiest were merely stripped of their magical powers. Magical artefacts within the building malfunctioned, the top of the Archmage's tower exploded in a flash of purple light, and the menagerie escaped, running rampant through the corridors. The fabric of the building itself, crafted with magic, was equally affected, and became suddenly mutable and bizarre, shifting constantly (a phenomenon which supposedly continues, to a much lesser degree, even today). When the clouds cleared, the tip of the mountain was much changed. Within it, the only living things were the often-mutated menagerie and the occasional insane sorcerer, locked away in his own tower because he couldn't remember how to open a door. The archmage's tower was now only three-quarters its previous height, the artefacts inside were to all intents and purposes lost, and the great library was, if still intact, trapped a long distance inside a now extremely-dangerous building. Its glass windows, imported at great cost, had been destroyed, and several towers had literally melted and then resolidified in horrific, mutant shapes.

The destruction of the College was not the end of magic in Bimeq. One of the few sorcerers to escape completely intact with his magical powers led several parties into the Old College after the Magestorm had ended to reclaim certain essential objects - including some major treatises from the library on one terrifying occasion - and reestablished the College in the Barbican, which, having been almost totally non-magical in both usage and construction, had been mostly immune to the Magestorm. There was still an Archmage, who remains so now - Stem Larsson - although he was stripped of his powers, making him an ironic figure - an Archmage without magical ability. He now resides in the Archmage's Palace, a rapidly-built stone edifice next to the Bimeqqarattash. The College now has about 130 members - most of whom are sorcerers who escaped the College - and has very few new acolytes. It is headed by Timeq, the immediate successor to Bála Sá Séme, the wizard who returned into the College to reclaim the basics required to retain the school. It is said that he eventually plans to reclaim and rebuild the Old College, although whether this is an act of naiveté or an achievable aim remains to be seen, especially since the College's strength (magic) cannot be used inside the old buildings for fear of the consequences. [/spoiler]

Population and Demographics

The modern population of Bimeq is around 300,000, of varying ethnicities - the three largest groups being the native lizardfolk population, Elfic humans and Kamasc humans, followed by large Illithid and other minorities of humans and other species, mostly descendants of members of the original college. Tieflings are quite common, whilst there are only about two known elves in the entire city. The varying groups speak different languages, but generally speaking, newcomers' children adopted the native tongue, although with many many additions (including scientific and magical words) from their own languages. This language is called 'Bimeq' by outsiders and, linguistically, 'Bimu Zeqash' or 'Zeqash of Bimeq', as it is a dialect of the greater Zeqash language.

Technology

The Old College is full of artefacts, both magical and technological. The majority of the older ones were subjects of studies - those found to be dangerous were hidden away or kept by more powerful wizards. The new college has a small selection it was able to salvage, including one Speaker, named Svatadra (473 in the 'Old Tongue', the first three numbers of the reference number it gives if asked its name) by its 'owners'. The city itself possesses little Old Technology, although arcane streetlights are still in place in some parts of the city, these are rapidly fading, and many were destroyed during the Magestorm.

[Wensleydale]

T-t-t-Techno...

Hundreds of different ancient artefacts have been found across the world, most of them broken, useless, or of unknown properties. Most are also unique. Only a few have been found in sufficient numbers that they have been, as the scholars put it, 'classed':

Mark 11 Raygun

The Mark 11 Raygun (scientific name) or 'gunstick' (among other colloquialisms) is effectively a long tube of about a foot long, blocked at one end and with a small crystal mounted at the other. Most tubes also have a small square marking about halfway down, which when pressed, fires the weapon Most modern rayguns are found alone in tube form, although examples have been found within frames of various different kinds, some including shoulder stocks. Rayguns essentially fire a shaft of heat energy - hot enough to burn, if not to kill or melt anything stronger than a plastic cup. Rayguns do not appear to have any kind of ammunition - after a varying amount of shots, they run out of energy. Any method of recharging them or replacing the batteries has not yet been globally discovered.

Gasgun

The 'gassgun' (possibly a misinterpretation of 'gauss gun') is a small but hefty weapon that takes advantage of magnetic fields to fire. The vast majority no longer work, although they are prized as collectors' pieces anyway. Gassguns are generally heavy, built from metal, and feature a shoulder stock, long thick barrel and top-fixed magazine. The trigger is found in the form of a lever on the right hand side of the main gun. Ammunition is found in large quantities by farmers in various areas of the globe, although it is not necessarily usable. However, like rayguns, gassguns need recharging, and such a method has not yet been rediscovered.

RTD

RTDs (Remote Targeting Device, although this name is unknown to almost all worldly scholars) resemble Gassguns in appearance, although they lack a magazine and the elongated barrel, instead possessing a zooming sight and a gem that when the trigger is pulled upon produces a red light. The point of these weapons was not understood until a few years ago, when an active one was unfortunately chanced upon. Some of these weapons appear to be keyed into the various Siilu ruins, large, apparently pointless buildings full of vertical tubes. Others seem to call down bombardments of meteorites from the heavens. They are effectively extremely long-range markers which mark a target and activate some other weapon elsewhere to pour down fire on the unsuspecting victims. The first confirmed activation of one of these weapons was an unfortunate incident that turned a large part of the Dw-Pnut slums into a deep, smoking crater that has still not been rebuilt over, although since then, no incidents on this scale have occurred again.